


tune out the static sounds

by truethingsproved



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-21
Updated: 2014-07-21
Packaged: 2018-02-09 18:43:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1993740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/truethingsproved/pseuds/truethingsproved
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A few days in Greece was meant to be nothing more than a vacation, a break from the constant influx of stress that neither of them seem able to avoid, a much-needed escape from the constant recognition. They are Draco Malfoy's friends; she is the girl who tried to give Harry Potter up to the Dark Lord; he is the boy who held back and refused to choose a side.</p><p>Not here, though. Here, they're anonymous, and they can create themselves the way they always should have been out of skin, bone, and memory.</p>
            </blockquote>





	tune out the static sounds

They could spend forever here and he'd never get used to how perfect it is.

Blaise stretches like a cat, all arched back and lazy fingers reaching for his coffee cup before curling back up into himself, comfortable in his chair as he watches the sun climb in the sky. He can't remember the last time he disconnected from everything--just a few days without the constant pressure of running a company, looking after a family, trying to  _survive._  The world is an unfriendly place, especially for them, and some days are harder than others.

"Worrying about what's going on back at the office?" The voice that interrupts his reverie is low, husky with sleep, and when Pansy comes out to the balcony to sit beside him wearing his boxers and his shirt and nothing else he has to dig his fingernails into his palm to keep his grin in check.

Still, he looks over at her with a smile, holding out his cup of coffee for her to take, and the sight of him smiling so widely, so honestly, has her pressing her lips together to keep from mirroring him. "For once, no," he answers honestly, and  _that_  has her smiling.

A few days in Greece was meant to be nothing more than a vacation, a break from the constant influx of stress that neither of them seem able to avoid, a much-needed escape from the constant recognition. They are Draco Malfoy's friends; she is the girl who tried to give Harry Potter up to the Dark Lord; he is the boy who held back and refused to choose a side.

Not here, though. Here, they're anonymous, and they can create themselves the way they always should have been out of skin, bone, and memory. Here, she smiles freely, and it's the most beautiful, most important thing he's ever seen. Here, she laughs at his terrible jokes without her eyes darting around to see if they're being overheard--she has a laugh like bells, loud and rich and warm. Here, they can pretend that the rest of the world simply doesn't exist when they fall asleep on his bed, hands and feet tangled together, dark hair fanning out across his shoulder and her nose tucked against his arm as she sleeps.

Here they can talk for hours until they are silent--here, they can be silent. Here, the quiet doesn't feel like a weapon.

There's no one else who makes him forget the world like this, and she knows it.

She crosses her bare legs, swinging one foot back and forth lazily as she takes his cup from his hands and takes a drink. "What if we just didn't go back?" she muses aloud. A week, a month, a year ago, he would have laughed good-naturedly and she'd have done the same, and they wouldn't have thought about it seriously at all. Now, though, when he wakes each morning to the one person he loves most in the world and the distractions of everything else faded and muffled, peripheral at best, ow he doesn't think there's anything he wants more.

"We don't have to," he answers, and he's never been more honest in his life.

He doesn't know if she knows how much he loves her. She doesn't trust in much these days and he can hardly blame her; everyone has let her down at some point or another, and no one loves her the way they should--unconditionally, unquestioningly, with equal love for her flaws as for her virtues.

It doesn't much matter if she knows.

They can spend forever here. They've got time to learn.

**Author's Note:**

> for amy, loveliest of the lovelies. title from the song 'disconnected' by 5 seconds of summer.


End file.
